I was Never Theirs

I woke up the next morning, finding the house too quiet. The faint morning light slipped through the blinds, casting long, delicate lines on the floorboards. The weight of yesterday lingered heavily, and I could still feel the ache of my parting words to Nicolas and Harvey, like echoes that wouldn’t stop.

I took a breath and tried to brush it off, reaching for a clean shirt when I heard voices downstairs. Nicolas and Harvey had let themselves in again, apparently. I headed down, wondering if they’d come to press me for another favor for Savvy. The minute I reached the bottom of the stairs, I caught sight of them in my room, looking through my things.

“Good morning,” I said, a slight edge in my voice, crossing my arms as I entered.

They turned, both glancing at me with guarded expressions. Harvey cleared his throat, gesturing toward the few things left on my dresser. “Sabrina, we noticed you didn’t give Savvy anything for her birthday yesterday. Thought these might be a good idea for her. She could use some cheering up.”

Nicolas picked up a small bottle of perfume I’d left on my vanity. “She’d like this, don’t you think?”

My jaw tightened as I watched them, but I didn’t say anything, just kept my gaze on them. They didn’t notice the look on my face as they casually pulled open a drawer, looking for anything else that might be “perfect” for Savvy. But as they reached my closet, they paused, confusion flickering across their faces. Harvey pulled open one door, then another, only to be met with empty hangers, untouched shelves, and a distinct absence of anything to take.

“Sabrina,” Nicolas started, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the closet. “Where is everything?”

Just as I opened my mouth to answer, Nicolas’s phone buzzed. He checked the screen, and his expression shifted immediately, brows drawing together as he glanced at Harvey. “It’s Savvy. She needs us at the hospital now.”

They didn’t wait for an answer from me. Harvey just nodded in my direction as they quickly left, my empty closet and their questions forgotten. The door clicked shut, and for a moment, I stood there in the quiet, letting the silence settle again.

I slipped out of the house, needing some fresh air, and made my way to my father’s studio one last time. It was practically empty, his tools neatly packed away, the scent of wood and metal still faint in the air. Mr. Caldwell, one of my father’s oldest friends, met me at the door.

“I’m sorry to hear you’re letting go of the studio, Sabrina,” he said quietly, a knowing smile in his eyes.

I nodded, trying to find the words. “It’s… it’s time. I need to let it go.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. “Before you do, I wanted to give you something. Your father designed it years ago, one of his best pieces. He called it Hope Jade. Thought it might bring you some comfort.”

I opened the box, and there it was—a piece of jewelry unlike any I’d ever seen. A deep, green stone set in intricate gold, delicate and powerful all at once, something only my father could have created. My fingers trembled slightly as I held it, the weight of his craftsmanship grounding me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, the words barely a whisper. “I’ll keep it with me.”

Mr. Caldwell nodded, patting my shoulder before he turned to go. I stood in the stillness of the studio for a while longer, letting the memories wash over me, feeling the bittersweet ache of goodbye.

When I got home later that evening, the last box was waiting for me. Savvy had picked it up from the courier while she was being discharged from the hospital. She must have left it here earlier, and for once, she’d left without a scene.